Adrian asked, “So Thomas never wanted credit?”
“No,” Mr. Merrick said. “He told me, ‘I was just holding the ladder for a friend.’”
That sentence broke me.
When we finally returned to the car, neither of us started the engine.
Adrian held the letters carefully in his lap.
“Mom,” he said quietly, “did Grandpa really think I’d feel forgotten?”
I turned toward him.
“I think he was scared of what he was leaving behind.”
Adrian stared through the windshield.
“I spent years thinking maybe it was Dad. I feel stupid.”
